Not everyone likes Ponies
by SomeGuyOrOther
Summary: A visitor to Equestria provides a somewhat...unique take on the locals and their world


Disclaimer: My Little Pony Friendship is Magic is under the hoof of Hasbro, and I do not plan to benefit financially from this wee drabble. As for HPL, I'm quite sure he would be in the pro-fanfic crowd.

Not really a Cthulhu mythos crossover: rather a case of, er, culture shock?

"Name?"

"Howard Phillips Lovecraft."

The creature did in some ways resemble a pony, but there were profound, alien deviations. The fine stylus with which it took down the information for his temporary visa application seemed to somehow tackily _adhere_ to its so-called "hoof."

Hoof. An intelligent entity with hooves – as the old diabolists would have it, the mark of the devil. But it wasn't even the honest hoof of a horse – aside from its curious adhesiveness, it had an impossible _plasticity_ to it, flexing to fit a handle on a mug or…

"Terrestrial residence?"

"Providence, Rhode Island, United States."

Fortunately, the "Equestrians" – as the alien, unpronounceable name of their trans-universal realm had been infantilized in translation – didn't seem to care too much about bureaucratic details. It was a relief not to have to give them his exact address, although rationally he knew that there was no danger in it. Still, it _had_ been the Equestrians which had torn a rent between the universes, and although they claimed it had been an accident…

"Length of stay?"

"Uncertain – I might have to stay the full six months."

Some people considered them "cute", he understood. There were even dolls and some dreadful Disney cartoon. He gazed at an animal face with outsized human eyes, a skull bloated to hold a man-sized brain, a foreshortened muzzle which somehow twisted itself to mimic human speech (he had been told that he would find Equestria full of English-speakers: very few humans could duplicate the whinnying local speech), and forelimbs that looked like tapering cones of hairy flesh until they bent with that blasphemous plasticity…and he was to entrust his life to _things_ like this one?

"Reason for visit?"

"Medical reasons."

The "Pony" twisted its face into a disturbing imitation of human concern. "You poor thing! Don't worry – I'm sure that _our_ doctors will be able to help you. Once we've finished these forms, I'll show you where to apply for medical coverage."

"Thank you", he gritted out. To travel to this place of madness, a world of utterly non-terrene forces and entities, where the heavens themselves revolved to the whim of inhuman deities, and abnormal horrors roamed black woods under alien stars…if not for the bubbling, growing, devouring monster in his gut, it would have been inconceivable. But Equestrian "Doctors" (Wizards? Witch-doctors?) had learned enough about humans and their bodies to achieve cure rates greatly surpassing anything human science could do – and it would have to be _here_, across the dimensional tear, where their eldritch powers could be fully used…

"Just a few more questions, ok? The nature of your medical problem?"

And even the sickness might not have done the trick, if Howard hadn't urged him to come in his last letter. Howard, a braver man than he was, had actually travelled of his own free will to Equestria, the writer of muscular fantasy entranced by the notion of a world of real gods and monsters – if singularly short of brawny barbarians! He had been staying among the Ponies when he had received news of his mother's death, and it had been Ponies which had saved his life when he had tried to cut his wrists, and it was Ponies which had helped him emerge from deep depression. Howard would not lead him into a trap.

"Cancer."

"Ooh, that's the big one for your species, right? I am pretty sure we have that one mostly licked, although I'm sure that the medical insurance people can tell you more."

There was a faint accent, but the voice sounded eerily like that of a young human woman. A daemonic shadow seemed to fall across his vision, darkening his vision. In the corner of his eye, the sickly blue iridescence of a "Unicorn"' using magic, idly making papers grotesquely dance in air. Could Howard…among creatures which sounded so much like women…ghastly abominations…gibbering hideousness…no! It could not be. How could he even imagine that Howard…he was falling prey to irrational fear, to fear of the unknown, the oldest and strongest of fears. He would face his fear, and face these…_creatures_, and if he lived, return to Providence with his sanity still intact.

"Primary contact person on the Terrestrial Plane?"

And if he did live, there might be inspiration for some new stories.


End file.
